Lost
by Ferali
Summary: Eve war didn't happen. Chang Wufei is left alone at the mercy of his inner demons untill a new situation arrises.
1. Chapter 1

Punch, kick, sidestep, punch, punch.

He didn't even remember his opponents name. It didn't matter. The names, the faces. They were never the same. No one faced him twice. They knew better. He didn't pay any attention to his opponent. He didn't need to. He was weak. Unworthy. Couldn't make him pay attention. Couldn't make it real.

Block, block, sidestep, breathe out, breathe in, punch.

Everything was a blur. Nothing seemed real. Hadn't seemed real since the war ended and he was left here. A soldier without a fight. Without a purpose. Without a life. He didn't live. Merely existed. Filling up the empty void with fight after fight. All of them meaningless. All of them merely blurry patches of memories were he buried himself in the movements. Just being without conscious thought.

Kick, sidestep, kick, kick, punch.

It was freedom. No worries. There wasn't a society here that he needed to blend into. A society with all these rules and manners that he didn't remember. Expecting him to go back to the person he could no longer recall being. The person that died when he became the killer his family shaped him into. A family that no longer existed. A family he failed to save. He was alone here. Adrift. Lost. And no one here to show him the way.

Breathe out, punch, breathe in, block, punch.

It was over. He looked at the unconscious man on the floor. He would live. He walked over to ring master and collected his pay. Walking over to the bar he ordered a bottle of vodka and took a long tug. Seemed to be the only other thing that could wipe the tension out of him. The only other thing that still grounded him to the earth that he no longer understood.

He had once been someone hadn't he? A boy with hopes and dreams and ambitions. Who had that boy been? A scholar? An artist? What had that boys name been? He frowned as the half forgotten memories washed in front of his minds eye. Chang? No that had been his families name. His clan. Wufei. Yes. Chang Wufei. They had hoped that with a hard name he would become a warrior that would make his family proud.

That hadn't been who he was though. He had proven to be skilful in the martial arts, true, but back then his passion had lain with books. Instead of joining the others on the training fields he had squirreled himself away in the library. Using words, once written by men that were now long dead to hone his own. What had that been like. He remembered that he had felt a rush whenever he wrote something. He tried to recapture the feeling but it evaded him.

He had not felt anything in a long while. Nothing but the rhythm of battle, or the burn of the vodka down his throat. This was hell. No. Not hell. It was even worse. This was Limbo. Not being able to move forward. Not being able to turn around and head back. He remembered the thrill of battle. Knowing that he was out manned and outgunned and still he had gone at it with everything he had and had come out the victor. Cut down enemy after enemy. Watching corpse after corpse fall to the ground and he had moved on without care. He had been invincible then. Untouchable. He wanted it back.

It wasn't fair damn it. He had sacrificed everything he was when his family had sent him off to fight alone. Set aside everything he was to become who he needed to be. And with each life he had spilled that thing had settled in a little bit deeper until he could no longer tell where it stopped and he began. And now it would no longer leave him be.

The memories would not leave him. They haunted him. Made it impossible to sleep. He never wanted to go through something like that again and he wanted it back. To go back to that place where everything was clear and blurry and he knew what he had to do and not where to begin. Where he had fought his enemies and wondered who those enemies were and if the corpses that were lying scattered around him, feeding the earth with their life's blood were amongst them. When those few others had been there to watch his back and stand by him and he had stood by them as well. Where they would have sacrificed each other if it was necessary and fallen in bed together afterwards cause they needed to know someone else was there and they were still alive.

He shot back another shot of vodka. He never should have lived. He didn't belong amongst these people in their era of peace. He didn't know what peace was anymore. Some days he looked at the blade in his hands and wondered if he should finish himself after all, but he couldn't. He wasn't a human being anymore. He was a living weapon. And weapons don't switch themselves off. No... they stayed where they were laid down until someone came by to pick them up again.

And so here he was. Passing the time with these meaningless fights and bottles of vodka hoping that if he lost himself enough in either one then maybe this new world would stop spinning around him and start making sense again and he would no longer feel so stuck, outdated, lost, obsolete, redundant. He felt as if there was nothing left of him these days. Stripped, used up. He felt so old and weary. Was he really only seventeen years old? He wanted to go to sleep and not wake up. He wanted... He still wanted things. It seemed that there was still something left after all. He smiled a tired smile and downed another glass.


	2. Chapter 2

He grabbed the bottle next to his bed and took a few swallows in the hope that it would stop the pounding in his head. He had learned it was best not to stay sober too long. Things started to hurt too much. Last time he had been sober he broke his hand to stop the screaming in his head. Using the pain to distract him. Hadn't set it until the alcohol kicked in.

Part of him still felt disgusted with his own behaviour. Forced to drown himself in a bottle of vodka to handle his own emotional state. He had tried to kick the habit but his demons were too strong these days. He had nearly killed himself because of it. He winced slightly at the memory. It hadn't been pleasant.

He had thought about getting professional help but he didn't trust anyone. He didn't trust them not to sell the information to the highest bidder and he didn't trust them not to card him off to the nearest institution and lock him up for life. He doubted they could do much for him anyway. The things he had seen, had done. He had seen the veteran rehab posters. They didn't seem to be in a much better state.

He sighed deeply and got out of bed. He winced slightly as broken ribs grated against one another. He had been careless in the last fight. His opponent had been halfway good and he had half hoped he would finish him off. No such luck it seemed. Off course dying would be too easy. He sighed again.

Moving to the shower he easily avoided the small mirror above the sink. He didn't need to see himself to know he looked like shit. He stepped under the warm spray, letting the feeling of warmth beating down his skin wash over him. He rarely felt warm these days. He didn't eat much. Barely had any appetite at all. If it hadn't been a habit to eat he would probably have starved by now. Even now he often forgot to eat more than once a day.

He wondered how the others were doing. They had been together when he had left them to figure out his own demons. He had tried to get in touch with them when it was clear he wasn't going to manage but hadn't been able to find them. Not that it mattered much now. He was too tired to care.

He walked out and dried himself off. After eating half a sandwich he crawled back into bed. Not much to do right now anyway. Gulping down some more vodka he laid his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. Determined to sleep the slow day away.

It was a few hours later when he was woken by a knock on the door. Glaring drowsily at the clock he saw that it was about three in the afternoon. Throwing back the last of his bottle he put on a pair of pants and made his way to the door. His eyes widened in shock when he saw who was on the other side. "Shit Fei. You look like you've been dragged across 9 miles of bad road."

Amethyst eyes gazed up at him with concern. "Maxwell, Yuy." He stated with a nod of greeting. He stepped aside and let his two former brothers in arms inside. "To what do I owe this pleasure." They both looked around his bare apartment. The living room contained a threadbare couch and a small coffee table tv and little else. It looked more like a safe house then a home. He never felt like making one even if he had remembered how.

Duo chewed thoughtfully at his lip as he regarded his fellow pilot. "It can wait, we should take of you first. Sit down and I'll get started. So where do you keep your stuff." Wufei sighed and sat as directed. Duo was a stubborn one and he didn't have the energy to argue as he would have. "Bathroom. Through there." He pointed to one of the doors in the small hallway.

"What happened?" Seemed Yuy hadn't changed that much. Still straight to the point. He shrugged. "Fight." Short, to the point. He would let Yuy make of it what he would. He wasn't going to elaborate. Yuy in turn raised one eyebrow but didn't press it. The other boy returned, medical supplies in hand. He set Wufei on the couch and set to work. "You know you should really take care of these sort of things straight away. Don't want them to set wrong." The false cheerful tone annoyed him. That hadn't changed either it seemed. He just gave and non-committal grunt in reply.

"Why are you here?" He asked again as the braided boy finished up. "What. We couldn't have just wanted to see our long lost war buddy." He just shot him a look in reply. "There's been a situation. We require your assistance." This was said in Yuy's cool tones. "Yup. So we thought we'd drop by and see if you want to join in on the fun." He shrugged. "Give me an hour." He turned away to the bedroom, leaving the other two behind to amuse themselves. Closing the bedroom door with a click he felt something in his chest give way, making it easier to breathe somehow. Maybe this was exactly what he needed. Another chance to go down fighting. He smiled a bitter smile. Exactly what he needed.


	3. Chapter 3

He was going insane. Maxwell had dragged him over to the Preventers medical wing to have his injuries checked out. They had promptly decided that he was going to stay there for the next few days to monitor his recovery. That had been two days ago. Two days without alcohol to numb the pain. Two days where he struggled for every breath as he tried to block the images that assaulted his mind. Two days without sleep since he couldn't fight the images when he was asleep. Two days of hell as the fever raged through him.

He had to fight the urge to put his hand through a window in the hope that the pain would drive the images out of his mind. Not to mention the disappointed stares that gazed at him with pity when they learned of his addiction. Winner had been the worst. He still shuddered as that face mingled with that of his many victims crying to him for help or cursing him as they died.

He was almost glad he was addicted. His body ravaging itself in it's demand for alcohol was almost enough to keep his mind together enough to fight the images that tried to take over. It was going to get worse though. He was tiring quickly and soon this would not be enough. Especially stuck in this bed where he couldn't even lose himself in his forms, a poor substitute for real battle. Once the alcohol lost it's grip on his body he would be completely helpless. Then his fellow pilots would really have something to pity.

Gods he hated it here. If it weren't for the people coming to check up on him all the time he would have escaped and left this all behind already. This just wasn't worth it. And here he had thought this had been exactly what he needed. And it seemed that it was Yuy's turn to baby-sit this time. Gods, couldn't they just leave him alone already. It's not like they concerned themselves much with him in the past. Why would now be different. If they had cared that much why hadn't they left some way for him to contact them.

Granted Yuy wasn't as bad as some of the others but still. Hadn't they seen him weak enough already. Did they have to sit there and watch his mind slowly unravel. He wanted them gone. He wanted to leave. He wanted to find a little hole in the wall and curl up with a bottle of alcohol and never come out again. Why had they forced him to come here. Why couldn't they have just shoved a weapon in his hand and point him to the fighting. He resisted the urge to curl up and whimper.

He was startled when he felt a hand run through his hair. Yuy was touching him. Since when did Yuy do touch. Comforting touch at that. That was it. His mind had finally cracked and he was hallucinating. That or he had finally succumbed to alcohol poisoning. Would that make this heaven or hell. It was too weird for either. Must be insanity then. "It's alright you know. It's safe here. I'll keep watch. Just sleep." Right. He was going insane and his hallucination wanted him to sleep. Like his now obviously cracked mind really needed more pressure on it.

He snorted and turned his eyes back on the ceiling. Maybe he could distract himself counting the little dots on the ceiling. It would probably be better for the remaining bit of his sanity, if there still was such a thing, if he ignored the Yuy shaped hallucination. Because this was just too insane for words. His muscles slowly lost their tension as he started to relax. This hallucination was strangely soothing. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to enjoy it. Just this once. No one had to know. Just this once. His eyes slowly slid closed as he fell asleep. His demons quiet for once.


	4. Chapter 4

He woke up to find Winner holding his hand. That was better. Not pleasant but at least feasible. He pulled his hand back and sat up a bit more. "Ahh, you're awake." Winner gave him an overly bright smile. He internally winced at the fake smile. Not that you could tell it was faked. Winner was too good at this after all but coupled with the pity in his eyes it was a bit too much to swallow. The bitter aftertaste it left was even harder to swallow.

"Obviously." And off course Winner would just smile at his tone. The guy was impossible to offend sometimes. Especially when he got like this. He cursed himself again for agreeing to come here. "Sleep well." Gods couldn't the man just fuck off. He didn't want those pitying glances. Winner's least of all. He didn't answer, hoping he would get the point and leave. Off course that would be too easy. "You know you can talk to us right. It hasn't been easy for any of us. We could help."

He wished his head could reach the wall. Maybe if he banged his head into it often enough he could knock himself unconscious and wouldn't have to deal with THE talk. Again. "Wufei…" Again that sympathetic hand on his own coupled with another one of those looks. Right now he wanted to stab those eyes. That way he wouldn't have to look at them. He snatched his hand away as of he had been burned. Gods couldn't they just leave him the fuck alone. He didn't need this. He didn't WANT this. They've been happily ignoring him for years.

His vision blackened as screams rung in his ears. Not now damn it. Not in front of him. His breathing was erratic. His chest burned. He grabbed his head, needing the images to stop. He felt something touch him. A voice in his ear. He instinctively lashed out. Something grabbed him right after. Held him. He tried fighting it off. It was restraining him. He didn't want to be restrained. He didn't want to go there. Not those rooms where they did those things. He needed out. He needed out now. He wouldn't do that again. Not now. Not when he could barely hold on. He wouldn't survive it like this.

There was a soft touch at his hair, breaking through the images and his own screams of pain. Slowly the images calmed until he could make out a voice in his ear. "It's okay. Just breathe. That's it. You're safe. Shhh. It's alright. It's alright." He slumped into the embrace, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to take over. He didn't need them to see how weak he was. This was bad enough. He struggled to compose himself. He tried to leave the embrace but the arm around his chest tightened. Not letting go. "I'm not going anywhere. Just relax. It's okay." The fingers stroking his hair never stopped.

Slowly he looked up into one green eye. "Barton." He flinched as those calm eyes seemed to bore straight into his wounded soul. Barton always did have a way of seeing people. Maybe even more so than the empath. He didn't answer. He looked around, searching for Winner. "I sent him away. I figured you wouldn't want him around right now." He gave a soft growl. "Don't particularly want anyone around right now." Or ever. Not anymore. That time had past. "I know. But you need it." He tried to hold on to the anger that raised. Desperately needed to but the soft hand stroking his hair made it impossible.

Tiredly he gave up. For now. It wasn't any use. Barton had made up his mind and he wouldn't budge. The man could be as stubborn as Yuy himself. Gods he wanted a drink right now. Just get out of his head because this was to confusing. What did they want. Neither Barton or Yuy were the cuddly type so why. Were they just trying to patch him together long enough to fight. Why were they sparing fighters for that. Wouldn't it just be easier to leave him alone. To drop him completely as they had already all but done. "Shhhh. You're over thinking things again. Just rest. You need it." It took to much effort to actually speak the biting comment that begged to leave his lips. He sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe he could just rest. At least for a little while. Not like Barton was going to take no for an answer..


	5. Chapter 5

He woke up feeling muddled. He blearily looked to his right only to find a black patch of something with brown on top. He blinked a couple of times to clear his eyes. Why was everything so blurry. Did he get knocked on his head too hard in last nights fight… He mentally reviewed his body but couldn't find the tell-tale twinges of pain that signified any wounds. So why…

"Heya Fei. Feeling better." The voice in his ear sounded way to cheerful, not to mention fake, manic almost. And what was that voice doing in his bedroom. That voice didn't belong in his bedroom. It's not like he ever brought anyone home… This didn't feel like his bed. Why wasn't he in his bed. He blinked a couple of times to get his vision to focus. The blurs finaly came into focus only to form a…. Maxwell. What the fuck was Maxwell…. Right. He and Yuy had come by and dragged him here. "Fei?"

He frowned at the blurry form of his…. He didn't know what he was anymore. Former ally maybe. Yeah, that would work. "Fei?" He felt an hand on his arm. He finally shifted his attention to Maxwell again. "What?" There, he had managed to sound half-way annoyed. Good. He mentally patted himself on the shoulder for the accomplishment. Wasn't easy in his drugged state. "How are you?" He blinked up at the form of his former ally again. He tried to form a response through the drugged state of his mind. Why was he drugged again. Oh right. Breakdown. Barton had held him after kicking Winner out. It was now Maxwell's turn for babysitting duty.

He wished he could make that sound biting. At least in his mind but he was to drugged to manage it. Damn. His hand slowly made his way to the various tubes on his hand. He took his time to find it. He started to rip it out. Not caring if he hurt himself. Maxwell's hand covered his. Stopping him from hurting himself. "Don't touch me." He tried to growl the words but they came out as nothing more than a tired whisper. "No Fei. You need those right now. You're body can't handle the stress right now. When you're stronger."

He tried to follow the flow of words that came out of Maxwell's mouth but it was too hard a task at this moment. Having used up all his energy at the moment he let Maxwell put his hand back in the previous position. He'd kick his ass later


	6. Chapter 6

A week later they finally allowed him to be clearheaded again. A week of pitying glances and forced contact. A week of being to sedated to fight them off. At least Trowa and Heero weren't too bad. They just seemed to accept that it was their turn for babysitting duty. They usually just sat there. Heero with his laptop, quietly working. Only pausing from his work to enquire if he needed anything. Trowa with that quiet way of his.

At least they didn't give him the continues puppy dog stares that Winner and Maxwell seemed to favour the moment they were in one room with him. He could only thank the havens that he was too dazed to be awake too long while they were here. Plus he wouldn't have to put up with them trying to get him to talk about his problems. Gods he hated those talks. Like if he could share his demons he would suddenly be his happy go luck self. Not that he had ever been happy or even very lucky.

He sighed. Trowa should be here in a few moments. It would be his turn next. At least he had gotten a few minutes reprieve since Maxwell was called away for a moment. Praise the ancestors for small mercies. He far preferred Trowa, at least he was honourable enough not to mention his break down again. The door swung open and the green eyed youth stalked into his chambers. His feet quiet on the carpet. "How long are they going to keep me here."

Trowa sat down on the chair next to his bed. "Maxwell refused to answer." He looked grumpily at the other pilot. Not noticing the slight twitch at one corner of the other's mouth. "The doctor stated that you would be allowed to leave in a day or two, on the condition that you take your medication and stay with someone who can keep an eye on you." He growled silently. Sneering at the mention of the medication that they were forcing down his throat. "Quatre and Duo both volunteered to take you in." His eyes narrowed. "I don't need a baby sitter. Besides I'd rather stay in here then deal with either of them." This time he did notice the twitch of Trowa's lips. An amused glimmer making it's way into the usually blank eyes. "That's what I said. So I told them that you would be staying with me instead."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he appraised the other pilot. He hated the medication and he hated being here. And hopefully Winner and Maxwell wouldn't disturb him to much if he stayed with the other pilot. Besides he hadn't been to bad so far. It was the better option. "Fine." He growled as he turned his gaze away. Staring at the opposite wall grumpily.

He slowly uncurled himself and relaxed against the headboard of the bed. Looking down at his wrists he noticed how thin they had become. "We'll feed you up again." He started in surprise at the voice next to him. He gave the other pilot a thoughtful glance. "Why haven't you asked me to talk yet?" Trowa shrugged. "You'll tell me when you're ready. Pushing the issue will just make you more reluctant to talk and stress you more." He curled up silently again. The question why are you bothering was hovering on his lip but he wasn't sure he was up to dealing with the answer right now.

"We'll go shopping when you get out. You need more clothes. Most of the ones you brought are either torn or bloody." He nodded in reply. He opened his mouth to ask the question anyway but Trowa interrupted him. "We can deal with everything else tomorrow. You should rest. The doctor will be more inclined to let you go if you are well rested." He nodded again and lay down, closing his eyes. He hoped he would get out of here tomorrow. He was tired of the medicinal smell and white walls. He had seen enough of those to last him a life time. Tomorrow he would get out of here. For now that was enough.


	7. Chapter 7

He looked around as they entered the apartment. Quietly noting the pictures that seemed to litter the apartment. Some of the were made by Maxwell during the war. Others were obviously made afterwards. He was surprised to see a few of himself in there as well. "I thought you were all going to move in together?"

Trowa shrugged. "We did for a while. I moved out and joined to circus for a while. Afterwards I got tired of the crowds and joined the preventers. Instead of moving back in with Duo and Quatre I moved here. Heero lives by himself as well. Though from the way Zechs keeps eyeing him he won't be alone for long."

He nearly chocked on the shock. "Yuy and Merquise?" Somehow he couldn't picture it. He couldn't picture Relena Peacecraft allowing it either. The woman had spent an entire war stalking him. Surely she wouldn't allow he brother to move into her territory and snatch up her prey. "And Peacecraft didn't intervene."

Trowa smiled. "She is a bit busy with her own lover at the moment. And I believe that Dorothy is the jealous type." He nearly chocked again. "The sadist and the pacifist. Together." He shook his head as sat down. He felt like he could be knocked over with a feather. "Right? And I suppose you are going to tell me Une found ever lasting love in the arms of Rashid." Trowa's put on a straight face. "Well actually…" His mouth fell open and he gaped up at Trowa. "Une is still single. As far as I know at least."

Wufei slowly closed his mouth. "Right. Anything else I should know about. "Did you know about Quatre and Duo yet." Wufei frowned and shook his head. "I always thought Winner was more interested in you. And Maxwell usually seemed rather attached to Yuy." Trowa shook his head. "Not really. I think Heero was more of challenge then an interest. Duo always did like to draw people out. As for Quatre, he was interested but I didn't return those interests. He's moved on since then." He nodded. Made a certain amount of sense. "And you?" He asked almost hesitantly. "No one yet." Trowa answered simply.

"Would you like some tea." He nodded in reply and watched as Trowa made his way to the kitchen. After a little while he came out with tea, a couple of sandwiches and his medication. The stuff he had to take three times a day and he absolutely loathed. Grudgingly he took the pills and swallowed them down with a glass of water. They ate their lunch quietly. After it was finished Trowa collected the plates and placed them back into the kitchen.

"Come on. I'll show you the rest." Quietly he fallowed Trowa to the bedroom. "We'll have to share since this is the only room. I hope that isn't to much trouble." He looked around the room, noting the king-sized bed in the middle of the opposite wall that took up most of the room, along with a couple of dressers that lined one wall. "It's big enough." He stated simply. Not wanting to think of sleeping next to another warm body yet. Trowa walked over to one of the dressers and opened a couple of drawers. "You can put your clothes away here." He nodded and placed his bag on the bed.

"This door leads to the bathroom." Trowa opened the door and led them inside. The bathroom was quite big for an apartment like this. A bathtub dominated one wall while a shower cubicle dominated another corner. In the middle sat a toilet and sink. "There is plenty of hot water so you don't have to worry about that." Trowa opened a door under the cupboard underneath the sink. "There are towels in here. When you're done with them just place them inside the hamper over there. I will see to it that they get washed.

He then led them back to the living room and showed him a balcony door hidden behind one of the curtains. "You can sit outside and enjoy the sun. Or simply meditate. This place is quiet enough in the late morning or early afternoon. And we get some nice sun here." After that Trowa showed him the kitchen. "You'll find plates and cups over here. In this drawer you will find any cutlery you need and over there you will find the pots and pans. Food stuff is over there. Feel free to get whatever you want any time you wish." He nodded again. "I think I'll go over to the balcony for a while is you don't mind." Trowa simple nodded and left him to it.

He found a nice mat to sit on and took a place against the wall. His mind was still reeling from all the information he was just given. And he still hadn't been told what they needed him for or why they were bothering with him. Why was he here?


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Trowa watched with troubled eyes as Wufei retreated to the balcony. It was disconcerting to see him in this state. So fragile and breakable. In a way he had been as strong as Heero. Never wavering, never backing down. He always threw himself at the enemy with all that he had. Now. It was like he had collapsed into himself and all that was left were fragile pieces that would break if they were put under the strain. At least they had gotten to him before Vermillion had.

Vermillion. Their latest issue. They had been hunting down strong warriors to fight for their new cause and those that would not join willingly where taken and brain washed. Those that failed to be indoctrinated as they referred to it as were killed. It was sheer luck that they had gotten to Wufei before they did. After all it was them that had found his location. They had just managed to intercept their intel and move in before they did.

He sat down in a chair and looked at Wufei. He hated how fragile he looked. This time was even worse then the night at the circus so long ago. Freshly beaten by Treize and pride wounded. He had been confused then too. And it was all Trowa could do not to wrap his arms around him and tell him he would be fine. He knew the Chinese pilot would never have allowed it however so instead had given him a warm bowl of stew and some quiet company. Followed by a warm bed where he could rest.

The next morning the fire and determination had been back and he had gone his own way again. Sadly Trowa had let him go. And now. Here they were again. Except this time Wufei seemed to be without his fire again. Although every now and again he could see something smouldering beneath the bone weary depression that seemed to be dragging him down like a stone around his neck. It gave him hope that with a little care he would have his fiery dragon back instead of the hollow man that had taken his place.

They had some time. Vermillion was still rallying forces and for now the Preventers were equipped enough to deal with the issue for now. There was nothing that needed his expertise yet. Though there was no way to resolve this before things got messy. Hopefully it would be enough to bring Wufei back to himself and perhaps bring Wufei to his side as well.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of his cell phone. Barton. He answered in a clipped voice.

Heya Tro. How are things going. You get him in bed yet.

Off course Duo knew of his attraction. He should have been expecting this. No. Was there anything you needed. He kept his voice even.

Nahh. Just letting you know I ll be out of touch for a bit. So I thought I d check up on Fei at the same time. How is he doing?

Trowa s eyes were drawn to the figure on the balcony. Lost.

Well if anyone can bring him back it will be you. Duo s voice sounded optimistic. He responded to you before. So have a little faith Tro. It ll work out. I ll talk to you when I get back alright.

Alright. Take care. He could almost imagine cocky grin in response.

You doubting the great Shinigami Tro. No worries. I ll be fine. I ll see ya.

With those words Duo had hung up. Leaving him to gaze at the Chinese youth still on his balcony. 


End file.
